The Brightest Minds
by OmeganQueen
Summary: In the year 2077, the bombs fell and the world as mankind knew it ended. America is an irradiated wasteland, where blood feeds the soil daily and where survival is paramount. But for Erik and Wilhelm Weiss, it's a grand opportunity. Because when you're thrust into a world gone mad, knowledge is power. And power shapes nations. ( Rated M for obvious reasons )


**Had this idea for a while playing through Fallout New Vegas. Game's awesome, aged well over the years, but I gotta admit it was released before its time. Not saying Fallout 4 was bad, it just sorta felt lacking even with all the DLC's and mods. There's so many possibilities I cannot make up my mind. So, thinking on that, I decided to put this particular idea into writing to satisfy my need to actually make a difference in the Wasteland.**

 **And that all starts with a certain Vault in the middle of nowhere, of course. Gonna follow a bit of the canon timeline, then it's off to AU from there.**

 **As always, Rated M for Mature Themes. Disclaimer: Don't own Bethesda's Fallout except for my OC's.**

 **( For those who're wondering what happened, I went back and changed a few things with the original plot )**

 **}!{**

 _ **October 1, 2077 | 22 Days before Nuclear Holocaust**_

Erik Weiss kept his hands firmly locked on the cardboard tray to balance the three cups of coffee set on top of them. As he neared the door, he paused to fish for his ID card to swipe on the little device on the wall. Putting on a smile, the young scientist walked through the open door as the locks slid back and allowed him passage.

His friends were waiting for him in the main hangar, eager to share their thoughts on a previous momentous occasion.

"There he is!" Wilhelm Weiss, a fellow scientist that shared a name with Erik but held no blood relation, greeted his colleague warmly and leaned back casually against a large vehicle covered with a protective tarp. Wilhelm, or simply called Wil by his friends, had just finished demonstrating his team's latest project to the visiting representatives of the UAFA ( United Armed Forces Administration ) which was a branch of the much larger Commonwealth's Armed Forces.

Their organization, known as BIA ( Bramstokes Institution of Advancements ), picked up the slack from their long time competitors, West Tek, when the aforementioned organization shifted its focus from weapons and vehicles development programs to bio-weapons. Due to the ongoing crisis of resource shortages from bio-fuel over-consumption, the government naturally cut down on its usage of its dwindling supply of oil and focused on exploring every available alternative. When the development of the fusion cores succeeded in providing America with a stable and reliable source of renewable energy, if not limitless, it led to the development of the first series of power-armor and mobile-armored infantry. This ended up sacrificing heavy-duty vehicles for mass-production of the T-51's on a bigger but cheaper scale.

Years later, Bramstokes, through Wil's work, provided these vehicles for the Commonwealth that not only required less fusion cores but required even less maintenance. When the Sino-American War broke out after the US denied China's demands for the acquisition of its new resource, Wil's designs revolutionized the military industry.

"Congratulations on your promotion." Erik said as he handed his friend his cup. Technically speaking, there was no time for celebration, hence their being reduced to enjoying coffee instead of fine wine. The War was still ongoing. Even so, the three friends managed to sneak in a little time to enjoy their moments before getting back to work. "I heard they're making you head of the department now."

"Yes, all those long months toiling away in the garage finally paid off." Wil acknowledged, heaving a heavy sigh as he remembered his hard work piecing the thing together from paper and then to metal. "With me at the helm, our boys on the frontlines are gonna feel safer moving through the countryside without having to fear a rocket hitting them from the bush."

Erik turned to Lane Simmons, "How are those Eye-bots coming, Lane?"

The smaller woman adjusted her glasses and smiled, "The Board was impressed with my improvements to the existing models, and they granted my request to begin another project." A stray lock of her brown hair loosed itself from the tight bun behind her head and found its way down over her left eye, which Lane blew aside with a nonchalant puff from her lips.

"Another repair model?" Erik asked as he popped the cap off of his cup.

"No, this one is multi-purpose and encompasses medical, combat and repair functions. Who needs specific models shipped to our bases when you can send a single series that could perform all tasks assigned to it?"

"Don't we have models to perform those tasks?"

"We do, but Mr. Handys don't come cheap these days, do they?" Lane replied.

"Fair enough." Erik shrugged.

"How about you?" Wilhelm asked his friend, "How are you faring with your work in Cybernetics Division?" He referred to the fairly new branch of BIA, an experimental form of research introduced into the organization by a smaller development program attempting to merge with BIA. They were known as CROSS, and were largely responsible for providing the Commonwealth's police force with cyberhounds. Erik, having a background with advanced neuroscience and mechanical engineering, was tasked to act as Bramstoke's liaison and put to work alongside the CROSS researchers.

Their project's goal was to shorten the bridge that connected the cybernetic loop in the principle diagram that ruled over that specific field. Attempting to create implantations into dogs was one thing, trying to do the same with the relatively complex biology of the human body was another.

"We're close, but that's premature thinking." Erik answered. In truth, he felt they were getting nowhere. "We're well behind schedule for results, and the Board is getting impatient."

"Do you have a working prototype yet?"

Erik shook his head, "Can't say that I do, yet. However, I'm scheduled to give it another go today. They're bringing in one of the volunteers, a marine who got his arm amputated from an injury resulting from an IED." He checked his watch, "Which reminds me, I should get going."

"Whatever it may need, I'm sure you'll get it done." Lane said, putting an encouraging hand on her friend's shoulder. "You've got a big team working with you, all that effort will lead somewhere. You'll see."

"I hope so. Anyway, I'm glad we got around to talk about this, but we'd better get back to it." Erik said as he raised his cup, "Here's to working for a brighter future."

"Hear hear." The other two said in reply, and the trio soon after went their separate ways to resume their tasks for the day.

Erik logged into and entered Lab C, where the Cybernetics Division was assigned to since day one. Pushing aside the plastic curtains on his way to Decontamination, he discarded his labcoat and placed it within his footlocker. Donning a special protective suit and gloves, the scientist stood still as the hollow glass tube closed in over him and sprayed an odorless chemical around and over his body.

Having gone through the necessary procedures, Erik continued on his way to the storage unit where his team prepared the limb actuator he spent over three months designing and perfecting.

The test subject, a grizzled war veteran who looked like he should be well out of the war and stuffed into some training camp somewhere shouting at a bunch of new recruits, was seated on a surgical table with nothing but his shorts on. Sensor paddings, wired up to scanners were taped onto his chest and back. Erik spied the stump sticking out of his right shoulder and felt confident the actuator would fit right in with the subject.

Dr. Medger, the team's psychiatric expert, set up the camera while the others oriented the soldier on what was to be performed on him.

"So." Erik said as he cleared his throat, flipping a few pages over his clipboard to write down every detail. The camera made a loud whine before fading out into a barely audible hum as it began recording the session. "Subject No. 56. State your name, rank and age, for the record please."

The soldier growled, "Master Sergeant Grant Samson. 49."

Erik threw Medger an inquisitive glance, doubting that the subject's behavior was a good sign of compatibility. The psych-evaluation of the test subject said otherwise, but Erik was never one to cut corners. Mental stability was one of many factors covering the complex field of cybernetics, and he didn't want any mistakes this time.

Not when he felt they were close.

"Okay, Sgt. Samson. We're going to install a bypass implant superficially that should interact with your cerebellum. It is a painless procedure, and is necessary to provide the initial connection between the actuator and your brain."

The soldier stared at the scientist dumbly and nodded slowly, having no idea what the doctor was saying. His colleagues all looked at him with incredulity at his explanation, thinking it was unnecessary to educate their subject on the procedure's aspects. They weren't the kind of doctors bound by the rules of those in the medical field, or cared little for it if they were.

Having been properly anesthesized, the soldier's neck was fitted with a thin metal collar that spread across the junction separating the cervical region from the thoracic region. Surgical screws whirred to life as they were drilled into the bone to secure the implant into place, and the sergeant suddenly jerked his head as he felt something cold tap at that part of his brain close to the implant.

"How do you feel, Mr. Samson?" Erik asked, turning to the scanners to have a look at his vitals. They spiked for second, but soon after returned to normal.

"The…The phantom pain…it's back." The sergeant breathed.

"That's normal, and a good sign." Erik reassured him, "Now, we're going to set you up with the actuator and begin calibrations." His assistants unpacked the prototype and held it up to fit over the stump.

The robotic limb, an intricate set of pistons, rods and gears lined with tubes and wires, clamped down securely on the sergeant's stump as soon as it sensed warm and living flesh. Erik never bothered putting an overlaying sheet to cover the endoskeletal limb, thinking it would be a waste of resources should the prototype fail in its tests.

Sgt. Samson gaped at the cybernetic arm attached to him. Without waiting for the doctors to tell him what to do, he willed the limb to move as he would his natural arm.

"Is it too heavy?" Erik asked, setting aside his excitement to concentrate on jotting down his notes.

"Not a bit." The sergeant replied, managing to rotate the arm's wrist at a good 180, then back again. Slowly, the mechanical fingers clenched down together with the thumb to form a fist, then spread out into an open palm.

Transfixed, Sgt. Samson kept pushing the limb's limits as the memory of his lost limb's usage gradually came back to him. The team brought in three objects to test the amount of stress the limb could generate to simulate the grip of one's hand. First was a stress ball, then an apple, then a beer can.

Erik smiled in satisfaction at what he was witnessing, knowing that this was indeed evidence of his long work paying off. There would be more tests in the future, but at least there were results he could show to his employers. They would find it worthy of a few more months of support, and when he succeeded in a working design free of flaws, he would be put in charge of more projects.

"Good work, team." Erik congratulated everyone present. "Time for phase two."

* * *

Twenty-one days and sixteen tests later, the first working limb actuator prototype was completed just in time for a long overdue inspection. Alas, neither Erik Weiss or any of the brilliant minds that day would get their scheduled meetings. America, after enjoying its momentary reprieve from the war, tasted of China's wrath one last time.

"Sirs, ma'am." The officer in charge greeted as he walked into the building with his men, "We need you to come with us. It's urgent that you cooperate."

Erik glanced around and noticed more soldiers rounding up the staff in the hangar and through the windows upstairs he saw them packing up all the finished prototypes they could carry and the data that came with them. "What the hell's going on here?" When he would not move, the soldiers grabbed him by the arms and pulled him out along with them into the tarmac. "Hey! I'm going! I'm going! You can let me walk on my own, let go."

The three scientists were escorted onto the back of a waiting truck, and were herded in with the rest of their colleagues. As they boarded the truck, Wilhelm caught sight of the members of the BIA Board embarking on a separate car and driving off into the night. He and his friends exchanged looks of confusion, then fear as the truck engine roared to life and began its journey forward.

"Sergeant, would you kindly tell us what's going on here?" Wilhelm asked the soldier beside him nicely.

The officer's face was grim as he revealed the gravity of their situation, and the nation entire. The scientists had clearance, and were professionals, not civilians. He could tell them the truth, "Three hours ago, US troops breached the enemy defenses and marched into Beijing. China retaliated in kind by launching a full on offensive against US soil and its allies."

"They're attacking us, like they did Alaska?"

"Not like Alaska." The sergeant replied, looking out the back of the truck just as the blinding flashes of light burned out the darkness of the early morning in the distance. "Nothing like Alaska."

"My God." Erik winced and shielded his eyes from the brilliance of a hundred atomic bombs going off thousands of miles from where they rode.

"Where are you taking us?" Lane asked.

"BIA secured a specialized bunker built to house over 200 personnel in the event of a nuclear holocaust. We're a few minutes away from arriving on site."

The convoy of trucks rolled out of the Institute's vicinity just as the dust clouds picked up from the bomb blasts. Tremors rocked the earth and destabilized the crust, ripping apart the tender faults running along the Texan earth and swallowing up whole towns and cities as they caved in completely.

Automated defense turrets kept on firing at the bombers streaking across US skies, even as the flames of nuclear fire scorched them from all sides.

"Brace yourselves." Lane told her friends just as the crushing feeling of despair found its way into their minds. "Our lives will never be the same again."

"That's putting it mildly." Erik sighed as he closed his eyes. The young man didn't have a large family at the time, limited only to two grandparents and a widowed father living together in the suburbs of Washington DC. The capital region would undoubtedly be the first to be targeted by the enemy, and so any hope of him seeing any of them again soon after was snuffed out. "Hey Wil, you got any family here?"

"Not anymore I don't." The man replied, "If the Chinese are smart, as we both know they are, they would've targeted the capital city first then all the other popular population centers."

"Who were they?" Erik asked, curious to know since Wil never liked talking about his family due to some falling out along the line.

"A sister, and a little brother who hates me." Wil shrugged. "God willing, their deaths would've been quick and painless."

"Lane?" Erik said.

The woman shook her head, "Mom died to a brain aneurysm when I was sixteen. Even if I had any other relatives..." Her voice trailed off, she didn't want to think about it.

The three fell silent as the reality of their situation sank in. The truck bounced, shook and swerved dangerously from side to side as the tremors grew worse. The latest blast was closer than anticipated, and the convoy soon after picked up the pace for fear of getting caught in the ensuing wave of debris and fire. They pulled up to the entrance of the aforementioned specialized bunker and drove straight into the open entrance, just in time as the winds doubled in strength and the cloud of ash and sand blew into the entrance. Satisfied that the last of the convoy had reached its destination, the gatekeeper hit the button on the console and commanded the twin massive blocks of steel that acted as the main entrance doors to slide inwards.

With a loud groan and an ear-splitting shriek, the doors were shut. The final clapping of locks snapping into place further cemented the fact that their lives had taken a drastic turn. None paid much heed, however, for they all knew from the moment they stepped in that much had to be surrendered to ensure the country's future.

Erik and the rest of the assets saved from the attack were called to assemble before the first checkpoint. There, they were met with the commander of the facility. Two very loud gunshots came from the booth above, causing the crowd to duck down in fear and alert the MP's to secure the area.

A tall man dressed in military fatigues, covered by a flak jacket and donning a dark green beret walked out of the control booth with two of his aides in tow and stood atop the catwalk to address the little crowd before him. "Welcome. I'm Colonel Roman Stern, acting overseer of this facility. You might've heard someone's weapon discharging, but I've come to assure you that everything's under control. This country's been attacked, and you've been brought here to be protected. It's our job to keep you alive." The colonel pointed towards the checkpoint, not even bothering to note whether or not he convinced the badly frightened scientists that they were secure in this place. "Now, if you would be so kind as to cooperate with us, please allow us to guide you through the checkpoints and prepare for assignments."

"Assignments?" Erik said incredulously, "We've barely escaped a nuclear blast and now we're being press-ganged into service?"

"It's a Vault, for all intents and purposes. We'll all be expected to pull our own weight." Lane observed.

"Better get used to it, my friend." Wilhelm replied, picking up the blue jumpsuit he was handed with to wear. "We're not leaving this place any time soon."

* * *

Upstairs, after delivering his opening speech to the recovered scientists, Colonel Stern and his aides oversaw the removal of the two men he had killed moments before the assembly. The two of them represented Vault-Tec, and were responsible for implementing their organization's designs into the system that they might twist the way things were run to align with the Societal Preservation Program.

To turn the vault inhabitants into lab-rats, for lack of a better term. Colonel Stern, disagreed with the implementation but never acted on it until recently. One could say that his patriotism got the better of him, or perhaps altruism, but none could ever know the commander's true motives save for himself.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" His aide said.

"Hm." The colonel grunted in affirmation. His hands moved to fetch a white stick out of his pocket and a silver engraved lighter.

"Why'd you kill them?"

With a loud _clink_ , the steady little flame flickered to life and seared the tip of the cigarette. Stern inhaled deeply of the fumes and blew a cloud of smoke at the body-bags at his feet. "For too long I've allowed people to destroy each other in the name of the mankind's future, under my fucking watch. No more. Vault-tec aims to use this facility to make lab-rats out of these people? I just made their job a little bit harder."

The officer in charge of the comms reported in, "Sir. We've lost contact with homebase in DC."

"You're never going to get anything while we're just hours into the aftermath, soldier." Stern replied, "Head on downstairs and assist with getting the dwellers oriented and assigned."

"Sir." The officer saluted stiffly and marched towards the elevator.

"Well then." The aide cleared his throat as the soldiers dragged the body-bags out of sight. "With them dead, that leaves you as the highest ranking officer in this facility."

"Indeed it does." Stern said with a nod.

 **}!{**


End file.
